


Over the Edge

by danceswithoutwolves



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Nux has emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:56:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithoutwolves/pseuds/danceswithoutwolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys head out in search of scraps, and things take a turn when Slit finds a rather fascinating object amidst the wreckage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Edge

At the request of Rictus they had gone out scavenging, though Nux used the term “request” loosely. Rictus had prowled about the halls of the Citadel, making his compulsory rounds, when he reached the repair bay and grunted disdainfully at the sparse stash of spare parts before moving on. As good as a formal entreaty from Immortan Joe’s more reticent son, Nux had nudged Slit lightly in the ribs and raised his eyebrows pointedly. Slit had nodded his assent, and the pair stole away to the Coupe.

Staying cooped up in the Citadel for weeks on end—no battles, no supply runs, just endless repairs—had left both boys more than a little stir crazy; they frantically snatched the first chance they could to escape, to feel the blistering air rush across their clay-painted skin. Even without the prospect of war, the thought of driving was thrilling.

And so they had rushed through the Citadel’s labyrinthine passageways to the garage and, dropping Rictus’s name, gotten the clear to take the Coupe down and search for scraps. Repair was looking real thirsty, Slit had said; it needed some stocking up. And then they left.

Beneath Slit’s boots the Coupe vibrated, engine screaming and roaring with the wind that whipped past his ears. Sand kicked up behind the car to linger ephemeral and stubborn in the air, their own little cloud out in the Wasteland. Slit watched it rise and settle with curiosity as he leaned back against the rear window, elbows atop the Coupe’s roof for support. If any scraps materialized directly in front of them, Nux’d see, and keenly Slit scanned the dunes on either side of them.

Directly overhead the sun glared down, searing and bright and altogether refreshing in its aureate intensity. Against the sand particles whirling before Slit its rays struck, setting them twinkling and glimmering. But Slit’s eyes weren’t on the shimmering sand; rather, they were fixed on something far shinier. Twisting around, Slit banged twice on the roof.

“On the left!” he shouted once Nux threw open the sunroof, pointing at a heap of metal some thirty meters away. The car lurched to the left immediately, quick enough for Slit to think Nux hadn’t even bothered to verify his claim before steering where Slit directed. As they drew closer to the scraps, more details becoming visible each second, excitement shivered up Slit’s spine: it soon became apparent that an entire car had been abandoned. Shattered tail lights, flaccid wheels, an awkwardly contorted but undeniably whole cabin, and myriad other bits of metal caught the sunlight, brilliant and shiny and wonderfully chrome. The repair boys’d be wicked stoked.

 Nux pulled the car over by the scraps, and by the time he bolted out, Slit was elbows deep in twisted metal, metal warped shamefully by whatever accident had befallen it, burning his fingers for all the time it had spent baking in the sun, yet still gloriously intact. A disbelieving laugh slipped past his lips– they had scored big time.

In hushed silence, waves of reverence washing across them, they rummaged through the scraps until Slit happened upon a particularly interesting object. Darting his eyes up to assure himself that Nux was otherwise occupied, that he wouldn’t notice, Slit picked it up with his forefinger and thumb, and a devilish smirk curved over his mangled lips.

 

Nux first noticed something was amiss when he bumped his head against a dent in the cabin roof. He had tried to back out of the remains of the vehicle but grossly underestimated the distance, and as he straightened his back to stand up, his skull had rammed right into the concave blemish. Never the most coordinated of folk, this was no oddity, but the oddity lay in the fact that no reaction came from Slit. No haughty snort, no teasing, no response. Not one modicum of sound floated along the torrid air towards Nux. Brow knotting, he gingerly rubbed the back of his head and took several steps away from the car before warily straightening himself. But where he expected to see Slit bent over the wreckage admiring the shinier pieces, only vacant sand stretched out, miles and miles of echoing emptiness.

“What the–” he muttered, whirling around to see if Slit had gone back to the Coupe, but the rest of the words caught in his throat at the sight greeting him. Slit was there, all right. Leaning against the driver’s side door, thick arms crossed and shoulder blades digging into the tinted window, a wicked grin twisting across his mouth. Around his neck, a black collar.

Nux felt the flush creeping down his skin, coloring it florid, and suddenly the sun felt cold in comparison to his body. Little silver spikes jutted obscenely from the collar, encircling it, glittering in the sunlight. Like the desert sprawling around him his mouth suddenly felt dry, and his chapped lips parted as his breaths came shallowly. “Is that–” he croaked in disbelief, but of course he knew what it was. Was obvious.

Slit hummed, inquisitive. “This?” he asked as innocently as could be managed with his rasping voice, and ever so lightly trailed his finger in a maddening arc over several of the spikes, caressing them as things precious; for all the innocence in how his eyebrows arched he made the act sultry in its own right. “You like it?” Nux didn’t miss the way Slit’s thighs drifted the slightest bit further apart, punctuating the question. A dare. He felt the heat pooling downwards, that familiar rush of lust so rarely acted upon what with the threat of battle looming constant as the silent stars in the sky and the endless maintenance work neatly filling the gaps between the bloodbaths.

Purposefully Nux stalked towards Slit, hooked an ashen finger behind the collar and yanked it forwards, jerking Slit’s face and his salaciously glinting eyes towards him. “I love it,” he breathed against Slit’s mouth, and he could near taste the fire shivering through his veins as the words ghosted past his lips.

As they stood there, sharing air and refusing to break eye contact, Nux raised his free hand to blindly skirt along the succession of metal pieces dotting Slit’s abdomen. Fleeting though the touch was, the heat of it still stung his fingertips, and the scarred skin like oceans surrounding the metal islands simmered a faint pink, radiated a vague warmth. Down the filigree scars Nux dragged his nails, feather-light over the sensitive skin, yet still the muscles of Slit’s abdomen jumped and contracted beneath the touch. Slit’s hips shifted, a little twitch of impatience as Nux skillfully drove him up the wall.

The corners of his mouth quirked upwards, and he leaned forwards with an agonizing slowness, bridging the centimeters between their lips, the void crackling with electric anticipation. Slit mirrored the action, but just before their lips met, Nux jerked his head backwards, mouth molding into an ‘o’ of impish delight. Teasing Slit. His fingers curved to stroke against the slope of Slit’s neck under the leather collar.

Narrowing his eyes, Slit grabbed his waist and spun, slamming the slighter boy up against the Coupe. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, and though one of Nux’s hands remained hooked around the collar and its glinting spikes, Slit rapidly seized it and pinned both of Nux’s wrists at his sides. Weakly Nux flexed his arms, tried to wrench them free– more out of show than real desire to escape. Finding himself perfectly trapped, Nux stilled and allowed his eyes to flicker down to Slit’s mouth.

Slit noticed. He stepped forward and Nux parted his lips in expectation, but Slit merely kissed the corner of his mouth and trailed his lips slyly downward. They slid down his cheek, his jaw, his neck; and oh, when Slit reached the bottom of his neck, he stopped, tilted his head to the side just so as to make the spikes of his collar dig into Nux’s collarbone while he mouthed at the smooth skin. Nux couldn’t help it– he moaned. His head fell back and his eyes fluttered shut, narrow hips rolling forward into Slit’s, and the hardness he felt pressing so eagerly into his own sent further lust surging white-hot through his veins.

The teeth on his neck faltered, and then Slit’s hips were rocking back into his own, his hands releasing Nux’s wrists in favor of his waist. Sensing an opportunity, Nux skirted one leg around Slit’s, laced a finger behind the collar and jerked it sideways as he pivoted around. Slit’s eyes widened as he found himself pinned to the Coupe, Nux’s hand toying idly with his collar.

Satisfaction rippled through Nux at the look on his lancer’s face, and he leaned in to finally claim those scarred lips in a devastating kiss. At his bottom lip Slit’s teeth tugged, brutal and exquisite, sending sharp stabs of pleasure coursing through his blood; he responded in kind by licking into Slit’s mouth, tongue roving along the stitches running jagged through his cheek. Slit’s hands flew up to the grip the sides of Nux’s skull, pulling him impossibly closer, kissing him impossibly deeper. What sounded like a growl rumbled up from Slit’s throat, but Nux’s eyes were rolling back into his head as his hips rolled forward; everything was the cool headiness of coveted aqua-cola sliding down his throat; everything was the rush of giddiness after taking out an enemy’s vehicle; and all details aside from pure tactile sensation flitted about the outskirts of his consciousness as dust in the sunlight. He didn’t know how long they spent there, rocking into each other against the side of the Coupe– in those viscous minutes and seconds, the feeling of warm skin sliding against warm skin and lips pressing, shifting, overwhelmed every sense.

So lost in the visceral pleasure was Nux that he didn’t notice the leg hooking behind his, nudging his knees forwards until they buckled and he toppled ungainly backwards; sand flared up around his body, invading his lungs and sending him into a vicious coughing fit. Spitting out the last particles of sand, he turned watery eyes up at Slit, whose muscled form was outlined in brilliant rays of light that danced livid against the shadows clotted in the hollows of his skin. “Bastard,” he choked up at the glowing figure.

Slit chose not to dignify that with a response, kneeling down to straddle his driver, pressing his weight down in just the right place so as to make Nux writhe beneath him. Nux wanted to buck up into the hardness he felt pressing against his own, to thrust up and just fucking _get off_ , but, always slimmer than his lancer, Nux was pinned under his bulk. Up his torso, along the tattooed engine Slit’s hands wandered until they found his nipples. Lightly he brushed his thumbs against them, felt them harden; and when Slit rubbed in circles, Nux’s fingers clawed desperately into the sand, clenching and unclenching.

“Shit, Slit,” he gasped, arching wantonly into the touch.

Down his chest those wicked fingers groped, slid over muscle, traced the delicate contour of a hipbone. Blades of ragged desire stabbed through him in their wake, and when Slit’s fingers reached his belts, tapped against the iron metalwork twining through the leather, shamelessly Nux whimpered. Slit’s eyes roved over the sight of him, egregiously debauched and glistening sweat, and they flashed something devious as he brought the heel of his palm down to grind against Nux’s aching cock.

“Oh, glory–” pleasure exploded within him, sparks of ardor wheeling behind his eyes; Slit brought the rest of his hand down to stroke him through the coarse fabric of his pants, and the fizzling sparks were coaxed to a flame, roaring and shrieking its desire, madness ablaze. Deft fingers squeezed gently at his base, and though he tried to suppress the groan of pleasure that threatened to tear up through his throat, a poorly stifled moan nonetheless escaped.

Suddenly Slit’s hand was gone, his cock strained vainly against too-tight fabric, and then his lancer was laying on top of him, chest to chest, ensnaring his mouth in a brutal, crushing kiss. Teeth clacked savagely against teeth before Slit pulled away and Nux was left panting wildly. He searched Slit’s eyes, a silent inquiry, and received a response in the form of a coarsely muttered: “Ya gotta stop bein’ so damn loud, else buzzards 'n scavengers are gonna be crawlin’ all over us.”

Petulant challenge pulsed in Nux’s stomach at that, and he mimed turning a key against his mouth, locking it shut before tossing the key aside. Slit cocked his head to the side—the unspoken “oh yeah?” ringing loud and clear—and, with a punishing roll of his hips, completely unraveled Nux’s valiant attempt. Formerly sealed lips flew open to draw in a sharp, gasping breath as pleasure rocked up his spine. But his rush of defiance hadn’t yet trickled away entirely; no, it still burned steadily behind his electric blue eyes, and in this spirit Nux once more hooked a finger behind the heated leather of Slit’s collar and yanked forwards.

Their noses smashed together awkwardly, but the dull ache of that collision quickly faded beneath the delight of their lips meeting and Nux’s tongue sliding forcefully along Slit’s teeth. In the sand around Nux’s head Slit’s hands scrabbled for purchase, but once he found it, much to the dismay of Nux, he pushed himself upwards, bracing thickly muscled arms on either side of his head. Rearing to chide the smug bastard leering down at him in flagrant defiance, Nux propped himself up on his elbows and opened his mouth, but before any words could slip out, an idea struck: he hooked a leg around Slit’s hips and after a quick moment of torsion, he sat atop his lancer, chapped lips curved into a smirk. He had the upper hand, and mingling confidence and desire twirled brightly in his stomach.

Lavishly now he trailed one ashen finger along the staples and stitches in Slit’s cheek, along a strong jawline, along lips parted oh so subtly in ardor. Hot air ghosted across his fingertip, and as he ground his hips with stunning languor down into Slit’s, the air quickened upon it; his finger slid down to trace the curve of his neck. With feral delight he watched a faint pink tinge seep into Slit’s pale cheeks, mottle the clay-painted skin; it only deepened as he continued to roll his hips, press harder against Slit’s straining cock, riding him. Inexorably his finger explored further that pallid neck, winding ever downwards until skin gave way to leather and metal.

In one fluid motion, he tugged Slit upright by the collar, bringing them face to face. No longer did he sit on top of Slit; rather, he straddled his lap, reveling in the press of Slit’s heaving chest against his own. Blown wide in lust was his good pupil, and Nux had a feeling his own eyes didn’t look too different, watching the slow trickle of a bead of aqua-cola down Slit’s collarbone, enraptured.

Slit soon shattered the trance, thrusting his hips upwards as he crushed his lips to his driver’s. Sparks of desire exploded within Nux, lust shrieked through his veins, and in kind he responded by clawing at the scarification decorating Slit’s back; in the frantic, slick slide of chest against chest, in the feeling of Slit’s skin beneath his nails, in the delicious grind of their cocks, Nux utterly lost himself.

At some point Slit’s lips slid off his to trail a hot constellation of kisses down the slope of his neck, but the last threads of his restraint had long since unraveled and scattered as sand in the wind. Everything was chaotic, pure sensation, spewing entropy, spiraling through his body.

This was the heady rush of his interlaced fingers raised victorious above his head, the shout laced with fervent loyalty clawing up his throat. This was the lightness of fresh clay smeared across his skin, unblemished, a hallowed promise thrumming to be fulfilled. This was the intoxicating thrill of an accelerator completely depressed under his boot, the sanguinary fire in his lancer’s eyes after he took out an enemy and looked back over his shoulder to Nux.

And this was so much more.

Teeth sank shallowly into Nux’s neck as Slit came, muffling his groan, and his hips stuttered in their rhythm; Nux tumbled over the edge right after him and pulled him close, shuddering through his orgasm. Bonelessly Slit flopped backwards into the sand, and Nux followed, splaying out belly-down next to his lancer with a leg carelessly thrown across Slit’s, an arm resting heavily on his chest.

“Guess we’re gonna have to use those spare pants we’ve got in the back,” Nux said at length. All war boys carried extra belts and pants and all other manner of necessities in the back seats of their vehicles– in case a battle got particularly nasty, in case they took a long supply run. But not in case you and your partner were too far gone, too lost in a haze of lust to grapple with belts; not in case you and your partner touched each other in ways other than a comradely slap on the back in the first place, ways so wrecked with terrifying, blistering passion that they wavered on the border of something altogether unspeakable.

“Mm,” Slit grunted, severing Nux’s line of thought, “If you want them, then you’re gonna have to _get off me_.” With the arm trapped beneath Nux’s torso he jabbed his driver. “We’ve gotta start loading up the scraps, too.”

Recovering himself, Nux affected a lazy grin, skated a finger over the spikes gorging Slit’s collar.

“I’m fine right where I am.” He twisted over, back pressing into the sand, and laid his head upon Slit’s chest as if it were a pillow. Fleetingly he glanced up at Slit—a strange quirk played across his lancer’s lips—then shut his eyes against the ferocious midday sun. His pillow huffed out a staccato breath, jostling his head the slightest bit, yet made no move to shove him off. Somewhere to the left of his ear Nux felt an even thumping, steady and reassuring. Slit’s heart.

And that was the thing exactly. The crux of his problem: hearts. Because he and Slit didn’t just touch each other, they caressed, savoring every inch of heated, clay-stained flesh just as they revered the powerful engine of a war rig. Because drivers and lancers were brothers, but he and Slit were more than friends and brothers and the ties that bound them cut far deeper and coiled far sweeter. Because loss was a well-travelled road for all War Boys and to witness your lancer spray his mouth chrome was an honor, but in true danger Nux’s eyes always hovered petrified around Slit’s frame, heart lurching with every move in the vile dance of battle. Because in an instant he would forsake Valhalla in all its splendor for the chance to simply curl up against Slit at night and let the warmth of his scarred skin soothe him to sleep.

Because Nux might just love Slit.

A weight settled atop his stomach: Slit’s arm. It rested just below Nux’s hand, which he had gently cushioned on his ribs for lack of a more comfortable position. He felt Slit’s fingers curl upwards against his skin, reaching subtly, tentatively towards his hand. The shyness in that gesture bespoke the fact that Slit was unsure where exactly he stood, wary of overstepping the hazy boundary between normalcy and dread tenderness, and Nux’s heart gave a painful squeeze. However much Nux wanted to scream his passion, weld it irrevocably into the machinery of the world and the fabric of History, that caution still lurked sinister in the shadows of his mind as well. For once you tumbled over that edge, there was no climbing back, no absolution.

As he scooted his arm down to carefully lace their fingers together, the heartbeat pulsing through the chest below him quickened.

Nux was screwed.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a post circulating around Tumblr in which what appeared to be a collar was hooked on Slit's pants, and I couldn't resist!


End file.
